


I'll Take That Offer

by Bunnywest



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Barebacking, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Chris Argent knows what he wants, Fuck Or Die, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Non-Canon Relationship, Sort Of, Stiles wants someone to sex him up, Top Chris Argent, and what he wants is Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 08:37:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18891040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: " I say it again, Scott. I need someone to sex me up right now!”Stiles's words are cut off when he walks into a solid wall. A warm, muscled, breathing, wall. He raises his head from the chest he’s walked into, to see Alison’s dad. Mr Argent has a strange expression on his face, and Stiles wonders how much of the conversation he overheard. That question’s answered when Chris leans in and growls in his ear, ”I’d tap it, Stiles.”





	I'll Take That Offer

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sugar](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14064039) by [Twisted_Mind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind/pseuds/Twisted_Mind). 



> After writing over 35K for the Steter reverse bang fics, I just felt the need to write some quick and dirty Daddy Argent, okay?  
> So it's written fast, barely edited. Think of it as ninja fic.  
> I blame/credit [Twisted_Mind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind/pseuds/Twisted_Mind) for this, for writing the original Bad Daddy Series. I bow at her greatness.
> 
> In case anyone is unsure, Stiles is on board with everything that happens.
> 
> Also, obviously, I don't need to tell you guys to use a condom, right?

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I still say it was a dick move.” Stiles grumbles at Scott, who’s wearing his best sympathetic expression. “He was toying with me, and it wasn’t nice.”

“Well to be fair, Danny doesn’t know you’re bi. I mean, you only just figured it out yourself,”  Scott points out, being unreasonably reasonable.

“That’s not the point!” Stiles says, waving his arms for emphasis as he strides up the aisle of the market, leaving Scott trailing behind. “It was cruel to get my hopes up! Just for a second, I thought there was a someone out there who wanted to tap this, plus, it would get rid of my v card and stop me from being a target. I say it again, Scott. I need someone to sex me up right now!”

His words are cut off when he walks into a solid wall. A warm, muscled, breathing, wall. He raises his head to see that the chest he’s walked into belongs to Alison’s dad, who's far hotter than any parent has a right to be. He might be partially responsible for Stiles's attraction to men. Mr Argent has a strange expression on his face, and Stiles wonders how much of the conversation he overheard. That question’s answered when Chris leans in and growls in his ear, ”I’d tap it, Stiles.”

Stiles goes beet red, and tries not to choke on his tongue. He looks around wildly for Scott, hoping to beat a graceful retreat, but Scott’s the next aisle over flirting with Alison, the traitor. He glances up again and Chris is still observing him, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “I mean it, baby boy. I’ll take that offer. Just say the word.”

Stiles blinks, and his mouth hangs open. 

This can’t be happening. Is this happening? Gods, he hopes so. “Um….”

Chris places a hand on Stiles’s hip and subtly moves him closer. “Yes or no, Stiles? Tick tock, lives are at risk. Mainly yours.” He locks gazes and Stiles can’t look away from those eyes, that jaw, that smirk.

“How, I mean where..?” All he can think is that there’s no way they’ll both fit in his single bed.

Chris steps away then, for just long enough to duck his head round the next aisle where Scott and Allie are staring into each other’s eyes. “Allie!” he calls. Alison’s head snaps around.  Chris gives her an exaggerated eyeroll. “Looks like you and McCall are gonna flirt no matter what I say, huh? You may as well take him out on a date.” He digs out his wallet and holds out a wad of notes. “Go get dinner, see a movie.”

Alison’s face lights up. “Really, daddy? Thank you!”

“No point in fighting the inevitable,” Chris gives them a half grin.

Scott’s standing there wide-eyed. “Really? I mean, thank you, sir.” He starts to walk off but stops in his tracks, turning to Alison. “I just gotta drop Stiles off first…”

“Leave Stiles with me,” Chris interrupts. “I’ll give him a ride. That okay with you, Stiles?”

Stiles knows damn well that this is a bad idea, such a bad idea, the worst idea ever  in the history of bad ideas. He should totally say no.  

“Yeah, that’d be great,” he breathes out.

 

* * *

 

 

Chris steers Stiles through the door of his house with a firm hand on the back of his neck.   Once inside, Chris uses that hand to reel Stiles in close, and then there’s a mouth on his, kissing hungrily, all heat and tongue and stubble. Stiles arches into it, opens his mouth and chases more. He’s imagined being with Chris, sure, but he never expected it to be so fucking good, and this is just _kissing_. He closes his eyes and lets out a moan, and Chris chuckles against his mouth.

Stiles leans in, chasing Chris’s mouth, wanting more. Chris though, pulls back, just long enough to ask, “You sure about this, baby? I’m pretty big, you’ll feel the stretch when I fuck you.”

“Uh huh,” Stiles gets out, and Chris places those big damned hands of his on Stiles’s hips and pulls him close, and fuck, Stiles can feel Chris’s cock through his jeans, a long hard line. He wasn’t lying.

Chris kisses him again, before murmuring in his ear, “Okay, baby boy. We’re gonna do this, keep you safe.” He rolls his hips, grinding against Stiles, whose dick has joined the party and is pressed against his zipper.  Stiles nods, dumbstruck.

Chris hooks a finger through Stiles’ belt loop and leads him through the house, up the stairs, and into his bedroom, before turning him around and shoving him gently backwards so his legs hit the edge of the bed and Stiles finds himself suddenly sitting, letting out a tiny _oof_ as he lands. Chris steps into the vee of his legs and tilts Stiles’s chin up so he’s looking at Chris’s face, and not the obvious bulge in his jeans. “How do you wanna do this, kid? Any preferences?”  Stiles shakes his head, overwhelmed. Chris trails a finger down the side of Stiles throat and hums. “How about you just let me take care of you, pop that cherry of yours, make sure you have a good time, huh?”

“Uh yeah, I just…I wasn’t expecting any of this, can I, uh… use the bathroom?” Stiles asks blushing red and hoping he won’t have to spell it out.

Chris though, just nods his understanding, and Stiles thanks the gods for older men who know what’s up. “Shower’s through there. Take your time, baby. I’ll be waiting.” He shucks off his shirt and jeans as he speaks, and Stiles can’t help but stare, because Alison’s father is _fucking fit,_ okay? Chris catches his gaze, and then, grinning and moving deliberately slowly, he peels off his underwear so he’s standing there naked and hard. Chris gets on the bed and leans back against the headboard, one hand stroking himself lazily.

Stiles tries to imagine how that cock will feel inside him. He’s managed a finger before now, but this… he swallows convulsively at the thought of it, and his dick throbs. He sees Chris watching him, smirking, and he blushes, suddenly sure the man must know what he’s thinking. He scurries into the bathroom and closes the door, needing a moment alone.

He wanted someone to sex him up, sure, but he didn’t think it would be Allie’s dad, the man he’s been crushing on since he saw him.  As he uses the bathroom, showers, and makes sure he’s clean where it matters, he reminds himself that nervous or not, this could literally save his life. Besides, virgin sacrifices aside, he wants it.

He's doing this.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles wraps a towel round his waist and walks out of the bathroom to find Chris still sprawled on the bed. He extends a hand.  “Lose the towel and c’mere, sweet thing,” he rumbles, and Stiles does.

Chris pushes him down onto his back and crawls over him, all muscle and heat and power, keeping Stiles pinned where he is. “What – what are you gonna do?” Stiles asks, suddenly nervous all over again.

Chris kisses him long and deep, and when he pulls away he says, “First I’m gonna get my mouth on that pretty cock of yours, tease you a little. Then I’m gonna flip you over, open you up, stretch you out good. Then, when I think you’re ready, I’ll hold you down and fuck you.” Stiles whines helplessly, and Chris lets out a soft laugh. “Oh, kid. I’m gonna _ruin_ you.”

Stiles doesn’t doubt it, but he’s still not prepared for how good it feels when Chris starts to work his way down his body, strong hands on his hips keeping Stiles in place as Chris kisses and licks and teases, mouthing at his nipples, nipping the soft skin of his belly, and even that contact is enough to make his cock pulse. Chris  finally takes Stiles’s cock in his mouth with no warning at all, making Stiles thrash as he lets out a high pitched keening noise. Chris ignores him and keeps going, and Stiles whimpers, helpless. It’s too much, too good, and Stiles tugs at Chris’s hair, desperately trying to get him to stop. Chris pulls off with a long, wet, drag of his tongue, and raises his head with a devilish glint in his eye.

“’M too close,” Stiles pants out.

Chris smiles widely, seemingly amused by Stiles desperation. “Good.” And then the bastard goes back to what he was doing, only this time he wraps a hand around Stiles’s shaft while his mouth works the head, and fuck, that makes it even better.  Stiles can’t help himself, the wet heat and delicious suction dragging him over the edge before he can stop it. Chris keeps working his cock as he comes with a shout, and only stops when Stiles whines and writhes, trying to get free.

Before he knows what’s happened, Stiles finds himself flipped onto his belly, and Chris holds him there with a hand on the back of his neck while he digs around in his bedside table. “Lube lube lube…” he mutters to himself, before making a triumphant noise. “Thank god,” Chris jokes, “Didn’t wanna have to use spit.”

Surely he’s joking, right? Stiles is still trying to figure it out when a cool, thick finger starts pressing into him. He clenches instinctively and lets out a groan, but Chris persists, pressing in further. “Look at that baby hole, opening so nice for me, all pink and shiny and new,” he purrs. “Can’t wait to see how this looks when I’m done. You’ll gape, baby.”  He eases the finger in and out, and Stiles does his best to breathe through the sting. “Yeah, it’s gonna burn a little, but you’ll get used to it. Trust me - you’re not the first baby boy I’ve fucked open.”

Stiles blinks, still come-addled, torn between being comforted by Chris’s soothing voice and disturbed by the things coming out of his mouth. He doesn’t have time to think about it too much though, because there’s second finger worming in next to the first and it _hurts._ He lets out a wordless protest, tries to wiggle away, but Chris shushes him and tells him to relax, that it’ll only hurt for a minute. When Stiles continues to struggle, Chris takes the hand off the back of Stiles’s neck and places in in the small of his back, pressing him firmly against the mattress and carrying on with what he’s doing, and he’s right, it doesn’t hurt for long before it starts to feel, not good, exactly, but not awful. Stiles briefly wonders if this is enough for him to be counted as devirginised  – he’s come with another person, right? Surely that counts?

Almost as if he can read his mind, Chris gives his fingers a sharp little twist and presses them in further as he says, “Let me open you up good, baby, get my cock in you. Gotta be sure.”  Then he moves his fingers, searching, and crooks them just so, and Stiles yelps as a bolt of pleasure shoots through him like lightning. Chris chuckles. “That’s the spot.” He presses his fingers in again, and this time Stiles is expecting it, presses back against his hand, eager for more. _Prostate,_ his brain helpfully supplies.

Chris teases him some more while he works his hand in and out, twisting his fingers, tugging and stretching at Stiles’s rim, before sinking a third finger in deep. Stiles groans at the sensation, as Chris relentlessly pumps in and out, in and out. “Nearly ready, baby,” he croons, and Stiles honestly isn’t sure if that’s comforting or not.

Finally, Chris plunges three fingers in as far as he can and holds them there, and Stiles grunts at the sudden fullness. Chris lets out a deep chuckle. “You should see yourself, spread nice and wide.” He presses his hand forward, rocking, grazing Stiles’s prostate, sending fireworks racing up his spine.  “Yeah, you’re ready.”

Stiles doesn’t think he’s ready, not ready at all, not for this, but Chris doesn’t give him a chance to object. He pulls his fingers out, hauls Stiles’s hips upwards and forces his shoulders down, making his back arch. Stiles can hear the slick squelch of lube, and then Chris is grabbing his hips with one hand and Stiles can feel the blunt head of a cock at his ass, pressing forwards.

Chris forces the head of his cock inside, slow and steady. “Breathe deep and push, baby,” Chris instructs him, and Stiles obeys instinctively. He feels his body opening around the intrusion, and it takes his breath away with the sheer strangeness of it. Chris keeps pressing forward, and Stiles reminds himself to breathe as what feels like miles of solid cock is forced into him. It burns when Chris drives the last few inches in with one fast motion, causing Stiles to hiss at the sudden, deep ache.

Chris stills at the sound, holds himself steady, and Stiles breathes deep, tries to relax. He’s so full, _so_ full, he didn’t think he’d fit it all inside, but here he is, ass stuffed with cock, and he knows this is just the beginning. He feels like he’s on a roller coaster, all strapped in and with no option but to ride it out. He doesn’t want Chris to stop, it’s too good for that, even through the stretch and the strangeness, but he knows, can tell, that Chris is going to push him to his limits. He’s drawn from his thoughts by Chris rasping, “Gonna move now, baby.”

The sensation when Chris pulls out is something else again, all that hard flesh sliding against his soft insides, and then Chris is pushing back in, and then he’s doing it again, and Stiles thinks _so this is what getting fucked feels like._ It’s strange and terrifying and awesome and Stiles can’t hold back the sounds as pleasure overtakes the pain.

Chris runs a broad palm down his back as he continues to fuck into Stiles relentlessly. “That’s it, let yourself enjoy it, baby,” he encourages. “Listen to you, moaning like a dollar whore.”  Stiles wonders if he should be insulted, but then Chris hauls his hips up further and changes the angle. The next time he thrusts he rubs Stiles’s prostate just so, and Stiles lets out a howling cry that puts every porno he’s ever seen to shame, so he guesses Chris was right, he does sound like a cheap whore, and he doesn’t even care.

Chris chuckles throatily, and keeps going, driving in harder, faster. Stiles finds himself pushing back into the thrusts, and his cock’s hard and leaking. He moves to get a hand under himself, starts jerking himself off, desperate to come. Chris is plowing into him now, there’s no other word for it, letting out muttered praises. ” _Sweet little ass…so fucking tight….taking me so good…”_ and Stiles probably shouldn’t be so affected by the praise, but the sound of it makes him impossibly harder.

He speeds up his own movements, feels himself getting close, and Chris must be able to sense it. “Go ahead baby. Come for me,” he grunts out, slamming in hard, and Stiles does.  His world explodes into a firework of sizzling nerve endings that spark and fizz, and he spurts across his hand and the sheets. His ass tightens around Chris’s cock, and Stiles wails with the force of his orgasm. Chris swears and drives forward once, twice, forcing himself impossibly deeper before he stills, and Stiles feels him tense, knows Chris is coming as well.

His arms and legs choose that moment to give way, and Stiles slides down flat onto the bed, Chris following him, still snugged up deep in his ass, still coming. Stiles doesn’t care, mind blown, body throbbing, cherry popped. He lays there with Chris’s weight pressed against his back, panting. Chris’s breath rasps harsh in his ear, and he feels a kiss on the back of his neck.

“You did good, kid,” Chris rumbles out, before rolling off to one side. Chris slides out of Stiles, and his ass aches, feels empty, making him whimper.  Chris slips a hand down between Stiles’s legs and presses two fingers in and out, and there’s no resistance there now, his hand sliding through the wet mess easily. Stiles squirms at the touch, but Chris ignores him and carries on playing with his fucked-out hole. “You should see yourself, baby. Split wide open, red and dripping for me.” Chris sounds smug when he says it.

Stiles emerges from his haze long enough to realise something. “You fucked me bare.”

“I’m clean. You’re clean. Besides, didn’t want to use a condom, risk it not counting. Had to make sure you were properly fucked,” Chris says easily. Stiles is pretty sure that last part’s a lie, but he’s too busy soaking up all the good feelings right now to argue.  Besides, there’s something about the sensation of warm come oozing out of him that’s satisfying on a base level.

They lie there for a few minutes, quiet, before Chris sits up and gets out of bed. He returns before Stiles has really had a chance to register his absence, carrying a warm washcloth. He spreads Stiles’s ass wide with his thumbs and hums with satisfaction. “Damn, your ass is wrecked.” Stiles feels the swipe of the cloth against his skin, down his inner thighs where the come is still trickling steadily. Chris presses his fingers inside, works some of the mess out, and swipes it away. Stiles lets him, too fuck drunk to do anything other than lie there.  Chris takes his time, and when Stiles glances at him he can see the sheer satisfaction oozing off the man. Chris catches him looking, and he smiles widely, the corners of his eyes crinkling attractively. _So fucking fit_ , Stiles thinks again.

“I think you’re safe now, baby.”

Stiles forces himself to sit up, even though his body protests. “Thanks.” Stiles isn’t sure what the protocol is here. It was good, he can’t deny it, but he can’t help but say, “That was kinda intense. I thought you’d be…” he doesn’t know what he thought. That Chris would be sweet? Kind? He settles on “Gentle.”

Chris cocks his eyebrow. “I’m a hunter, sweetheart. Gentle’s not my style. Gentle doesn't get the job done.”

And yeah, Stiles guesses he knew that.  So he’s surprised when Chris pulls him in for a long, lingering kiss. When their lips part, Chris murmurs, “Tell you what, sweetheart. How about we do this again, but next time, I make it sweet? We’ll go nice and slow.  I’ll let you ride me, be in control.”

Stiles blinks. Next time?

Does he even want a next time?

He looks Chris up and down, takes in all the muscles that he didn’t get to run his hands over, the cock he barely got to touch, the hidden tattoos he never explored.

Of course he wants a next time.

He nods his agreement, and Chris grins, his expression hungry. “But how - Allie…” Stiles doesn’t know how they’ll even manage it.

Chris’s grin widens, and his eyes gleam with mischief. “Leave that to me.”

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles is curled up in his own bed, half asleep, the dull throb in his ass almost comforting, when he’s jerked awake by his phone. He frowns at the screen when he sees it’s Scott.

“Whut?”

“Stiles? Oh man, thank you so much! You’re the best, dude! I can’t believe you did that! I wasn’t even sure you liked Alison, but this is awesome!”

“Scoooott,” Stiles whines. “It’s late, and you’re not making sense.”

“Mr Argent,” Scott explains, sounding breathless with excitement. “When I dropped Allie off, he sat me down and told me he didn’t think much of me, that since his wife died Alison’s all he has and if I hurt his little girl he’ll hunt me down, but that you’d convinced him that I was a good guy, and so he’s letting us date - for real!  And he’s giving Alison a midnight curfew on weekends! _Midnight_ , Stiles! Do you know what that means?”

Stiles is fully awake now, and he can feel the grin spreading across his face as it registers what that means for _him_.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m probably gonna be busy on weekends now,” Scott continues, sounding slightly apologetic.

“S’fine, Scott. Pretty sure I’ll find something to do,” Stiles replies, mind filling with images of tattooed flesh, hard muscle, and piercing blue eyes. “Don’t even worry about it.”

 


End file.
